


Falling, falling.

by RoseWritesFic



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Depression, Drama & Romance, F/M, Protective Aaron Hotchner, Romance, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-16 15:22:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13638939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseWritesFic/pseuds/RoseWritesFic
Summary: In the year following Haley's death, Aaron Hotchner is more closed-off than ever. When Child Interviewing and Victim Support Agent Abigail Rhodes joins the team, she and Hotch start to develop a tentative friendship.As the agents become closer boundaries start to blur, and for the first time in a long time Hotch feels himself wanting to become something more than steady, stoic and dependable: he finds himself wanting to be close to someone.The story is almost complete but will be posted in installments. The romance is relatively slow-build/burn. There'll be a lot of hurt, more comfort, and some angst.Note/additional content warnings: Contains themes of depression, anxiety and recovery.





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I've loved writing this story (my first!). If you enjoy it I'd very much appreciate feedback. Thank you for reading - enjoy!
> 
> Additional note: This story is also being published on FF.net

 

 

"Agent Hotchner?"

Hotch heard a woman's voice follow a knock at his office door and looked up from his paperwork.

"Yes, can I help you?"

"I'm Agent Abigail Rhodes."

Hotch recognized the agent as being part of the Child Interviewing Team and remembered attending teaching sessions she'd helped to facilitate. He had a relatively clear memory of having a discussion with her following one of those teaching sessions, and being teased by Rossi who'd claimed she'd been flirting with him.

She spoke as though he should be expecting her, but he had no idea why she was in his office. He became aware that he was staring at her as he tried to deduce why she might be there.

"You have no idea who I am, do you?"

She looked slightly embarrassed but smiled, taking a step into his office and handing him a manila file, presumably containing her relevant paperwork.

"I'm sorry, I do, I've attended your teaching sessions. I just didn't know that I should be expecting you…" Hotch began, taking the folder from her.

"I'm part of the Victim Assistance and Child Interviewing Program, I've been assigned to work with your team by Strauss. She's trialling having agents from my department based within other teams…"

Abigail was starting to wonder if she'd misunderstood her assignment. She trailed off into silence waiting for Hotch's expression to change from one of bewilderment to recognition.

Hotch was starting to recollect a conversation with Strauss about having an agent trained in child interviewing and victim assistance immediately accessible to the BAU.

"Right. Sorry, paperwork tends to…"

"Make you feel brain dead?"

Hotch continued to look through Agent Rhodes' file.

"Exactly."

"If this is a bad time I can keep myself busy and be available at a more convenient time."

Hotch shook his head, not looking up at her.

"No, no. Please, sit."

Hotch continued to read through the paperwork - her credentials, department history, and new position outline.

"You'll be accompanying us as and when we need you is that correct?"

"Yes, at your discretion. I'll be based with your team and available to you consistently. If, or when, you don't need me I'll be working from within Quantico."

There was a moment of silence as Hotch continued to read. Abigail noticed that aside from the Hotch's eyebrows knitting together in either confusion of frustration, his expression didn't seem to change all that much. His voice bordered on monotonous, which should have been a bad thing, but it came across as steady and strong. She obviously knew of Agent Hotchner, and recalled talking with him briefly following teaching sessions. He was well respected in the BAU but did have a reputation for being slightly intimidating, and Abigail was starting to understand why.

Hotch looked up from the folder.

"It may take a little time to get used to, but I'm sure you'll be valuable to the team."

Abigail was relieved. His apparent obliviousness and guarded demeanor had had her concerned that her stint with the BAU would come to an end before it had even began.

"I'm briefing the team on our next case now, if you follow me I'll introduce you and you can sit in."

 

 

Agent Hotcher walked with a quick stride, Abigail nearly breaking into a jog trying to keep up as she followed him into the conference room. The rest of the BAU was already sitting around the table and they all turned to look at Abigail as she followed Hotch into the room.

"Everyone, this is Agent Abigail Rhodes..."

Hotch readied himself to explain her assignment but Rossi cut him off. 

"Oh right, the pilot project. You're from Victim Assistance and Child Interviewing, right? I'm Dave Rossi, we've met briefly." Rossi stood up to shake the young agent's hand.

Hotch looked confused and a little indignant as Reid, Prentiss, Morgan, JJ, Garcia and Reid introduced themselves to Abigail.

"You knew about this?"

Rossi laughed at his friend.

"Yeah, Strauss mentioned it to me about about a month ago."

"Me too." Morgan added.

"Me three!" Garcia chimed in.

"You're getting better and better at tuning Strauss out, huh Boss?" Prentiss asked.

Hotch rubbed his forehead, looking exasperated and unimpressed as laughter rippled through the team.

"OK, ok. Now that we've established that I'm either going deaf or losing my mind can we get on with the briefing please?"

He distributed folders to the team and started to talk.

"Felicity Cannon, a 22 year University of Michigan Student, was found bound, beaten, and raped in an derelict parking structure on Saturday morning. This is the second similar death in a month. Jessica Harlow was found in an abandoned office building in July, in similar circumstances. They arrested someone in that case though: a homeless man who'd been known to sleep in the building, he's currently awaiting trial. The similarity of the cases has the police wondering if the cases might be connected."

"The local law enforcement admitted that they might have made a mistake and actually asked for help?" Morgan snarked.

"I know, there's a first time for everything. Abigail, you'll join us. It's obviously not a child-focused case but you need to understand what we do here. Victim assistance personnel are also almost always helpful. Wheels up in thirty minutes everyone."

 

 

Abigail sat on the plane, opposite Morgan, Rossi and Reid, looking over the file given to her by Agent Hotchner.

"So Abigail, tell us about yourself," Agent Rossi requested.

Abigail hated that question and immediately felt self-conscious. She never knew what someone actually wanted to know. Work history? Qualifications? Personal details? She felt almost all of the eyes on the plane on her.

"What do you want to know?"

"Where are you from? When did you join the FBI?" Morgan asked, warmly.

"Well, I'm from California originally. My graduate-studies were in clinical child and adolescent psychology. I moved to Virginia to attend the Academy and never went back to California. I've worked at Quantico for the majority of my career, so about three years now."

"Reid, another premature entrant into the BAU to keep you company," Morgan teased.

Reid looked a little embarrassed and Abigail gave him a questioning look.

"Usually agents are required to have been with the FBI for longer before becoming part of the BAU. I was given special dispensation because…" Reid faltered and cleared his throat. Morgan jumped in to save him.

"Because he's a genius and profiling prodigy."

Abigail laughed nervously, hoping that people weren't going to measure against that standard.

"Well, I can't claim to be either, so I guess I just got lucky."

"I wouldn't say that." Rossi said.

He said it as though it had significance but Abigail couldn't imagine what he meant.

Hotch had been listening in on the conversation, curious himself about Abigail, and noticed the nervous edge in her voice. He was also confused by Dave's comment.

"How about we don't bombard her with questions on her very first day," Hotch said, not looking up from his paperwork. "Does anyone have any questions or thoughts on the case?" he continued.

Prentiss gave a brief profile of who they were likely to be looking for. Profiling had always interested Abigail and she'd regularly attended teaching sessions. Hearing an obviously experienced agent give a profile so effortlessly was intimidating, though. Abigail understood, in a clinical sense, the terms being used (sexual sadism, narcissism, anger excitation) but hearing them strung together into a clear profile was a little difficult to comprehend. She must have looked hopeless because Rossi looked at her sympathetically.

"Don't worry honey, you'll get used to it."

Abigail smiled appreciatively but wasn't so sure.


	2. A Diner in Michigan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abigail starts to settle into her role in the BAU and Hotch gets to know her a little better over dinner.

 

After landing in Michigan and participating in a briefing at the local police station, Hotch instructed Abigail to accompany to Morgan to interview Jeffrey Davis, the homeless man arrested for the first murder.

Sitting in an interrogation room across from a middle-aged person was a different experience for Abigail. She was used to interviewing kids or vulnerable and scare teenagers. She noticed immediately that man was anxious. He rocked backwards and forwards in his chair, his eyes were swollen and bloodshot, and his breathing was quick and ragged. She sat down across from him with Morgan. Morgan introduced himself and Abigail and started to question the man.

"Listen man, we need you to tell us about Jessica Harlow."

"That's the girl who was, ummm, the girl who died?"

Abigail noticed that he seemed distracted, was losing his train of thought and was looking aver at the corner of the room.

"Yes, the girl who was _raped and murdered_ in the building _you_ were found sleeping in. Tell me about that."

The man looked genuinely sorrowful at the word 'rape'.

"I uhhhh, I ain't ever seen her until they… they, uhhh…"

He was losing his train of thought again.

"Who's 'they', sir?" Abigail asked.

Morgan was taken back by the compassion in Abigail's voice.

"The police, Miss. They showed me a photograph. I ain't ever seen her before. Pretty girls like that don't hang around in that part of the town. I thought maybe…."

He trailed off again and Abigail could tell that Morgan was getting frustrated.

"Sir, are you distracted by something? Having trouble concentrating?" Abigail asked.

Jeffrey looked uncertain and Abigail tried to give him a reassuring smile.

"It's OK. If there's something bothering you we'd like to know," she continued, gently.

"Just the whisperin', Miss - the voices. What was the question? You asked about the police? Or…"

They carried on the interview without getting too much information. Eventually Morgan gave up and he led Abigail out of the interrogation room.

 

 

"What do you think?" He asked Abigail.

"He's disorganized, hallucinating, confused, and he didn't seem to get any kind of thrill from talking about the rape. It actually seemed to make him… sad, and I don't think he has it in him to lie. He definitely didn't strike me as a narcissist, and not organized enough to bind and attack someone. And what was Jessica Harlow even doing there? He's right about it being unusual for a wealthy college student to be hanging around in that area, which means…"

"Someone took her there or convinced her to go."

"Right, and can you picture him even finding his way to a college campus, let alone grabbing a young girl and transporting her to that building? He's a mess."

"Not at all. You did well in there, Rhodes. You were good with him."

Abigail felt pleased and little bit of her anxiety about her assignment with the BAU dissipated.

"Thanks Morgan. One of my psych internships was with an outreach clinic for adults. I have a little experience and got a little lucky."

"Hey, give yourself credit, Rhodes. We'll go and debrief with the team."

 

* * *

  

Over the course of the evening Agents filtered out of the station back to the hotel. They'd decided that they were likely looking for a male graduate student, or possibly a teacher's assistant, but had agreed to break for the night and pursue it in the morning.

At 8pm Rossi, Reid and JJ invited her to join them for dinner. Abigail let them know that she appreciated the gesture but wanted to stay and read over notes. If she was going to be valuable to the team she was going to have to work at it.

At 9pm she looked up to realize that she couldn't see anyone else from the BAU still at the station, and there were only a handful of cops working quietly at scattered desks.

 _Probably time to head to the hotel_ she thought, suddenly feeling hungry and tired.

"Agent Rhodes."

Startled, Abigail spun around to see Agent Hotchner standing behind her.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

She exhaled and laughed lightly.

"You didn't, it's just… I thought I was the only one still here and I'm reading from a book about sexually motivated homicide. It put me on edge, I guess."

"An officer mentioned that there's a diner next to the hotel. I was going to get some dinner on the way back, if you'd like to join me."

Hotch felt awkward, for some reason. He often ate with his agents while they were away on cases, and despite his reserved nature he rarely felt uncomfortable in social situations. He felt unusually self-conscious inviting Rhode's to dinner, though.

"Yeh, sure." Abigail replied, surprising herself.

She usually avoided socializing with unfamiliar people, especially after such a long and exhausting day. Something about Hotch put her at ease though, and she got the impression that he didn't make these sort of invitations often.

Hotch parked at the hotel and they walked over to the diner. They sat opposite each other in a booth and looked over the menus.

"Morgan said that you did well in the interview today," Hotch said, looking up at Abigail briefly.

Abigail nodded, feeling self-conscious.

"He seems like an amazing agent. _Everyone_ actually seems great."

"They're some of the best agents in the FBI, although I suppose I could be biased."

It sounded like a joke, but his expression didn't change The waitress appeared beside the table.

"Are you ready to order?"

Hotch ordered a burger, Abigail ordered cheese fries.

"Anything to drink?"

"Just water," Hotch answered, handing his menu to the waitress.

"A diet coke, please," Abigail added.

Hotch could tell that Abigail was slightly nervous. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes seemed wide with nerves. He knew that he could sometimes intimidate junior agents, and as the waitress left he felt eager to make her feel more comfortable.

"Cheese fries are a meal?"

Abigail noticed that he was smiling and this time was sure that he was joking and teasing her.

"The best kind of meal: carbs and cheese."

Hotch couldn't help but laugh and noticed her shoulders relax a little.

"I feel like you and my son would get along well, he thinks that ice-cream is an acceptable meal."

Hotch was a little surprised at himself. It was a small detail but he rarely shared anything personal with relative strangers.

"He sounds like my kind of man. I bet your wife keeps him in check, though."

Abigail hated herself as soon as she said it. She'd heard about what had happened to Agent Hotchner's wife, but hadn't made the connection between her abstract idea of the BAU's Agent Hotchner and the man sitting in front of her in a diner in Michigan.

"I'm so sorry, I can't believe I said that."

The waitress stopped by and placed down the drinks. Hotch thanked her and took a sip.

"It's OK."

He wasn't sure why but he suddenly felt guilty thinking about Hayley.

"You know? I mean about what happened…"

"Only vaguely. I had heard. I'm sorry, Agent Hotchner."

The news had obviously filtered through Quantico. Abigail didn't really know the ins-and-outs of what had happened, only that his wife had been killed by a suspect.

Hotch knew that he shouldn't be surprised that she'd heard, but he hoped that she was being genuine when she implied that she didn't know the details. He took another sip of his drink, and made an effort to change the subject.

"You can call me Hotch, Rhodes, everyone else seems to."

Abigail smiled, grateful that he didn't seem to be holding her comment against her.

"Do you have family?" he asked.

"Here? No. My family are in California. It's just me."

Hotch wondered if that meant that she also didn't have a boyfriend, but didn't ask.

"How do they feel about you being in the FBI?"

Abigail felt a familiar sadness sink her stomach, Hotchner saw her smile falter and noticed that she looked down at the table, guarded for the first time during the conversation.

"They're OK with it. My dad's a lawyer, a defense attorney, so law enforcement isn't really alien to him. He's proud, I think. My Mom's a nurse, my sister too."

Hotch noticed she didn't mention how her mother felt about her position with the FBI and didn't push it.

The waitress returned with their food and Abigail realized how hungry she'd been. Abigail noticed Hotch looking at her, thoughtfully.

"I see you eyeing my fries, Hotchner, feel free to share."

She smiled at him, and he felt the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. Something about her was warm and easy, and he couldn't help but relax a little. He reminded himself that feeling that way could be dangerous and resolved to maintain the boundaries he'd become so good at keeping.

"I know how excited you were about that neon, processed cheese, I wouldn't want to deprive you. Thanks though."

As they started to eat, Abigail's feelings of intimidation became less and less significant and the agents settled into easy, comfortable conversation. Hotch finished his food and Abigail ate half of her cheese fries, talking pleasantly but superficially about the case and the BAU. When they finished their meal and Hotch had expensed the cheque, the agents walked back to the hotel. Abigail noticed the way that Hotch tended to constantly scan his surroundings as they walked back to the hotel and wondered if he ever really relaxed.

"So we'll see you again tomorrow? You haven't been scared off?"

Abigail laughed.

"I'll be back tomorrow, assuming you still want me."

"I think you'll do well with the BAU."

The slightly more care-free side of him seemed to have retreated back to wherever it usually hid and his stoic expression had settled back in.

"Thank you, Hotch. Goodnight."

She unlocked her hotel room door and stepped inside.

"Goodnight Rhodes."


	3. Chapter 3

 

"Rhodes, you don't carry a gun?" Morgan asked.

The question had come up while the team were debating whether or not to bring her along to the suspect's apartment to bring him in for questioning.

"I've never had to. Interviewing kids and adolescents is hardly dangerous. Victim support is out in the field, but it's rarely risky and if the situation was questionable I'd have other agents with me."

"Have you passed your firearms qualification recently?" Hotch asked.

"Ummm, no comment?"

Morgan laughed. Hotch looked stressed.

"We'll get you trained as soon as we get back to Quantico."

Rossi noted the protective edge is Hotch's voice.

"Technically it's a not a requirement that victim support agents carry a gun, Hotch." Rossi said.

Hotch's voice remained measured but he was insistent.

"I know, but I'm responsible for the safety of agents in the field."

He turned his attention to Abigail.

"I think it's a good idea that you at least feel confident using one."

Abigail sighed. Even though she was feeling a little less intimidated by Hotch after their dinner together the night before, she still couldn't ever imagine arguing with him.

"Alright, alright. You're the boss."

 

* * *

 

 

Abigail decided to sit out the apartment visit and waited at the station. She'd been sitting with Reid for an hour and half filling out paperwork when Hotch and Morgan walked into the station on either side of a cuffed suspect. They led him into an interrogation room, and JJ summoned Abigail to the observe through the room's two way mirror.

"Can you un-cuff me?"

The guy was tall, over 6-feet, wore trendy, dark-rimmed glasses, was well dressed. Even through the mirror his arrogance was evident.

"Of course," Hotch answered.

He unlocked the cuffs and gestured towards the chair.

"Have a seat, Mr. Butan."

"I told you, I don't know anything about those poor girls."

His voice was saccharine sweet and thick with insincerity. Abigail thought she saw Hotch's jaw clench.

"You tutored them both, and a third girl you tutored reported being drugged at a party you attended. Says you interfered when her friend tried to take her home. So do you want to think about a little more?" Morgan responded.

"I don't need to drug girls to get them to sleep with me."

Abigail's stomach turned and she heard JJ make a disgusted sound next to her.

"Look, Mr. Butan. These killings, they were executed with such care, such detailed forethought, such exquisite planning, really, that we really need you to fill in the blanks. Our agents are really wanting to know: why the abandoned buildings? How were you sure that the homeless people residing there would be quiet? Just charm? Persuasion?"

Butan smirked. Abigail he thought she understood what Hotch was doing, and if it was careful flattery of Butan's ego that he was attempting, he was doing an excellent job.

"Come on Hotch, there was nothing artful about that. We know about the buildings. It was opportunity and good luck."

Butan snarled and spat at Morgan.

"Luck? What the hell would you know? You're a savage, glorified cop! Those women were worthless and I gave them exactly what they deserved, exactly _where_ they deserved it: in disgusting, filthy, empty buildings full of people as worthless as them."

A look of regret settled over Butan's face when he realized he'd confessed. Hotch regarded him for a moment before turning around and leaving the interview room, Morgan following closely behind him. Abigail had only known the team for a couple of days but could tell Morgan's emotions bubbled close to the surface, which made Hotch's measured demeanor all the more striking. Butan had made Abigail's skin crawl and she wondered how Hotch could appear so unaffected.

The agents emerged from the room and Hotch addressed the team.

"Good work today everyone. We'll get the full confession and then head back to Quantico, hopefully it won't be too late of a night."

Before anyone could respond he walked into an empty office and shut the door. Through the partially open shades she saw him sit on the edge of a desk, jaw clenched, running a hand through his hair.

 

* * *

 

 

After the Michigan case the next couple of weeks passed without incident. The agents wrapped up the case back at Quantico and consulted on a case in D.C. Abigail spent time getting to know everyone. She didn't have many girlfriends and few close friendships within her old team, but she felt like she could become close with JJ and Emily, and she'd never laughed so hard as she did with Garcia. Reid continued to surprise her in the best possible way, Rossi's warmth made her feel more comfortable every day, and Morgan's confidence inspired her to take to pride in being part of the BAU.

Then there was Hotch. Abigail suspected that he felt things more deeply than most despite seeming so impassive. She'd seen flashes of the Hotch she'd had dinner with that night in the diner, but that was rare at work.

As Friday wound down with no indication that'd be any cases over the weekend, the agents planned to go out for a few drinks at a local bar.

"What do you say, Chickadee? You've been hear for how long? Nearly a month and we've yet to celebrate your initiation into the most revered department in the FBI." Garcia asked.

Abigail laughed.

"Sounds good Garcia."

As the agents collected their things and headed out, Rossi let himself into Hotch's office.

"We're taking Abigail out for drinks, will you join us?"

Hotch thought for a minute. He felt something like excitement at the thought of spending time with Abigail, but thought that was probably a good reason not to go.

"I think I'm just going to head home when I'm done here."

"Come on Aaron, I'm sure she'd appreciate it. You know how nervous she's been about fitting into the team, I'm sure it would make her feel welcome."

When Rossi put it that way it made Hotch feel guilty. He sighed.

"OK, I'll meet you there in half an hour."

 

 

He arrived shortly after the other agents and found Abigail, Garcia, Dave and JJ at the bar. Reid, Prentiss, and Morgan sat at a table near the dart board already drinking.

"Hotch!" JJ beckoned him over.

"Beer, please." Abigail said to the bar tender.

"Oh no no no, my luscious love-bug. Tequila shots, please." Garcia smiled at the bartender.

"Getting her into trouble already, Garcia?" Hotch asked as he arrived at the bar, offering Abigail an small smile by way of 'hello'.

The bartender poured four shots and Garcia distributed them amongst the agents at the bar, feigning offense at Hotch's comment.

"Sir, you know that I don't even _know_ how to behave irresponsibly."

The agents, including Abigail, laughed. She'd only been at the BAU for a week and had already seen Garcia's liberal interpretation of certain rules and regulations. The agents took their shots, ordered more drinks, and went and sat at the table, interrupting Reid and Prentiss in the middle of a debate.

"I still think you cheated."

"Let it go, Reid. I beat you fair and square."

"I should have won! The probability of you having that hand was approximately 0.028%."

"Improbable isn't impossible, Reid. Any time you want a rematch just let me know - I'll quite happily beat you again."

"Poker?" Abigail asked.

"Yes, do you play Abigail?" Reid asked, looking hopeful. Abigail shook her head.

"Not well enough to beat you, Spencer. Or should I say not well enough to beat Emily?"

The agents around the table laughed, Reid shook his head, looking aggrieved.

"Who's up for darts?" JJ asked.

Prentiss, JJ and Reid peeled off from the group towards the dart board, leaving the other agents at the table.

"So Abby, how's the firearms practice coming along?"

Morgan had taken to using her nickname over the past week.

"Honestly? I was hoping you'd all forgotten."

"Come on, you can't be that bad."

Abigail looked at Morgan, eyebrows raised.

"Hotch didn't you coach Reid? I'm sure you could turn her game around," he continued.

Hotch looked at Abigail, she looked nervous. He still didn't really understand her aversion to firearms but she'd made it fairly obvious she felt uncomfortable carrying a gun. He had been trying to balance his own concern for her safety in the field with his reluctance to push her too hard.

"Reid had trouble with his gun qualification?" Abigail asked.

Rossi laughed.

"You sound surprised."

The other agents joined in on the joke, remembering Morgan handing Spencer a whistle after he'd failed the assessment.

"Come on baby girl, we're two drinks in and haven't even danced yet." Morgan took Garcia's hand and led her to the dance floor.

"I'm going to get another round of drinks." Rossi stood and walked over to the bar, leaving Abigail and Hotch sitting alone and across from each other at the table.

Hotch felt a little self-conscious being alone with Abigail. She seemed to have easily developed an easy-going relationship with the other agents over the week, but those sorts of friendships, warm, quick and casual, were harder for him to establish. He looked over at the bar and noticed that Rossi had taken a seat and struck up a conversation with the woman sitting next to him. He didn't seem to be in any rush to order their drinks and Hotch couldn't help but feel that the delay was purposeful.

Since the topic had already been brought up by Morgan, Hotch decided to use the time and the relaxed environment to ask why Abigail was so apprehensive about carrying a gun. He knew that if it was any other agent he'd have been a lot more insistent about them passing their qualification and carrying a weapon. He didn't know why he was so reluctant to push her.

"Rhodes, can I ask you something?"

Abigail felt a little uneasy. Hotch wasn't looking her in the eyes, and seemed slightly nervous about whatever he was preparing to say. She hadn't seem him look even vaguely nervous since she'd met him.

"Sure."

"Is there a reason you're avoiding pursuing your gun qualification?" He asked, firmly but gently, looking up at her only as he finished the question.

There was a moment of silence. Abigail had that feeling of uncertainty that nags at you when deciding how much to share with someone. It felt like standing blind-folded on a ledge, trying to gauge how far you might fall if you were to jump. Abigail could make friends with co-workers, laugh with people, talk warmly and deeply to people she cared about, but in some ways she was just as guarded as Hotch seemed to be.

Something about him made her trust him though. She felt him looking at her expectantly, drew a breath, and started talking.

"My dad is a lawyer."

"I know."

"I guess I was an... anxious kid. I'd hear him tell a story about gang members shooting each other in the street and innocent bystanders getting killed, or see photographs of people shot in their homes during home invasions, and it just got to me. After a while I'd see a gun and I'd panic. If I heard a loud bang I'd panic."

Abigail stopped. What she'd told Hotch was the truth, but there was a little more too it. 'Anxious kid' wasn't really the beginning and the end of it. Her mental health wasn't something she wanted to discuss, though. Not with anyone, and definitely not with her boss.

"I got over it, obviously. Guns don't _scare_ me anymore, exactly. They're just something I take seriously."

Hotch held his breath. He had a feeling that there was more she wasn't saying, but at least now he had some idea of why she'd felt uncomfortable. He sat, silently looking at her, giving her space to continue if she wanted to, part of him hoping she would. Instead she sat there quietly, looking increasingly uncomfortable.

"Say something, Hotch."

"Sorry, I just wanted to give you more time in case there was anything else."

He cleared his throat, looking a little sheepish, then continued:

"I'm not always great at these sorts of things."

Abigail laughed gently.

"So why did you ask?"

For the first time since she'd met him Hotch seemed a little thrown off-balance, struggling to find words.

"I guess… I don't know. I need to keep you safe in the field. I knew there was something that was bothering you, and needed to know so that I could help you deal with it."

Abigail nodded.

"I'm not that great at this either, Hotch."

All of a sudden Abigail felt like there was a subtext to their conversation. When she said she wasn't great at 'this', she didn't just mean talking about personal subjects. She wasn't good at trusting people or getting close to them, and she felt like Hotch might be trying to say the same thing.

"You know, Morgan's right, I did help Reid. I'd be happy to practice with you."

Abigail still looked uncomfortable.

"You don't have to start carrying a gun right away, but you should practice at least. Soon you'll be more involved in investigations and you'll be spending time out in the field and you'll need to carry a weapon."

Abigail sighed.

"Alright, Monday?"

Hotch smiled.

"It's a date."

Abigail felt herself blush slightly as Rossi returned to the table with more drinks. She pushed back her seat and stood up.

"Thanks Dave. I'm just gonna go to the bathroom."

As Abigail left the table Hotch took a sip from his drink and glared at Rossi.

"Slow service tonight?"

Dave smiled.

"I don't know what you mean."


	4. Target Practice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys are enjoying this so far! Please leave any thoughts, requests, suggestions or heaping flattery/praise (just kidding) in a review.
> 
> I had a tonne of fun writing this chapter.

Hotch had been nervous about today. He'd set aside and hour on Monday morning to spend with Rhodes in the firing range. He knew that he was right to feel uncomfortable about her being unarmed in the field. He'd seen too many of his agents be stuck in horrible situations. But he felt a nagging guilt knowing that he was putting her an uncomfortable position. The same protective instinct that drove him to ensure that Abigail was safe in the field was the same instinct that made him want to protect her from the discomfort she was obviously feeling. 

Standing in the firing range with Abigail he tried not to think about any of that.

"So you know how to load the gun and operate the safety?"

Hotch handed the loaded gun to Abigail. 

"Yes Hotch. I'm not that hopeless."

Being in the firing range made her uncomfortable and she could feel herself getting defensive, but if Hotch noticed he didn't acknowledge it.

"OK, show me your stance."

Abigail exhaled, squared her feet and shoulders, locked her knees and raised the gun towards the target.

"OK, the problem with a small base of support, locked legs and parallel feet, is your balance. You're small, not as strong as male agents, and more vulnerable to being knocked off balance by either a suspect or the gun recoil."

Abigail adjusted her feet and looked back at Hotch, resisting the urge to take exception to the 'not as strong as a male agent' remark.

"Like this?"

"Better, but now look at your arms. The way your body is twisted leaves your left shoulder exposed, even if you're wearing a vest. Move your feet a little closer together, and move your shoulder slightly."

Abigail felt Hotch's hand land on her shoulder and gently move it forwards. She felt the warmth of his hand through the thin cotton of her blouse and her heart sped up.

"Good, now put on your earmuffs."

Her heart sped up again, but for a very different reason. She put on her ear protection, lifted her gun again, and readied her stance.

"Ok, whenever you're ready."

Abigail took a deep breath and fired. Even though she'd fired a gun before, the recoil still shocked her, the force propagating through her forearms and up to her shoulders, and the sound flooding her body with adrenaline. Hotch removed his glasses and earmuffs and looked at Abigail.

"Are you alright?"

Abigail took a deep breath and steadied her voice.

"I'm fine."

She looked at the target. There was a bullet hole just above the silhouette's left shoulder.

"I missed."

"It's OK, try it again."

The anxiety she felt had been worsened by the rush of adrenaline and she was losing patience, both with herself and the whole learning-to-fire-a-gun endeavor.

"Hotch, I'm not good at this. Rossi did say that technically I don't have to carry a gun and you agreed."

"You don't have to carry one, but you should know how to use one, just incase."

Abigail was becoming frustrated and tense. Why did she need to be good at firing a gun if she wasn't going to be carrying one in the first place? The flaw in Hotch's logic was getting to her.

"Incase what? Incase I'm in a life-or-death situation and I just happen to stumble across a gun? Incase it's just me and an un-sub and he decides to toss me a firearm to make it a fair fight?"

Hotch looked at her for a moment and Abigail prepared to be reprimanded for her sarcasm.

"Maybe if you tried firing off the gun instead of your mouth you'd be better at it by now."

He kept a straight face but his tone was more teasing than harsh and Abigail smiled.

"Put your earmuffs back on, and try again."

It was a firm instruction, not a suggestion or a request.

"Fine."

Abigail sighed, put on her earmuffs, and lifted the gun again. Hotch took a step towards her and held up his arm as though he was going to touch her.

"May I?"

Abigail nodded and Hotch stepped behind her, gently laying his arms over hers. He was conscious of maintaining distance and made sure there was space between his body and hers. He looked over her shoulder and prompted her to raise her arms upwards.

"Here, raise your arms slightly."

He softened his voice, aware of how close to her he was.

Abigail felt his breath on her neck. Focus, she told herself.

"Like this?"

"Exactly. Look at your target, not the gun."

Hotch shifted to his right slightly, running his right hand further down Abigail's arm towards her hand.

Abigail knew he wouldn't quite be able to reach her hand so took a small step back, closing the small amount of space Hotch had been careful to leave between them.

Hotch felt Abigail's back press into his chest and the curve of her hip press into his. He was momentarily stunned, a small voice telling him to pull away, but he didn't. Instead he relaxed into her body, moulding his shoulder and arm around hers. He felt her hair brush against his cheek and as he took a breath in he smelled either her perfume or shampoo - something fresh and sweet.

"OK, make sure you have a good line of sight."

Abigail tried to concentrate. She knew that Hotch didn't regard her as anything other than a colleague. Even now, as his chest was pressed against her back and she could smell his cologne, his voice was unwavering and completely professional. Despite all that, she still found her heart beating a little faster, and her breathing a little shallower.

"Remember, focus on your target and squeeze the trigger."

He nudged her index finger with his, prompting her to pull the trigger. Abigail fired the gun, the force pushing her body a little more firmly into Hotch's, just for a moment.

As she lowered the gun she expected Hotch to immediately step back, but he didn't. He lowered his arm with hers and left his body next to hers. He lingered for a moment before stepping away.

"Nice work."

Abigail hadn't even really assessed her performance. As the target was brought forward she saw that the bullet had penetrated the shape right through the centre of the forehead.

Hotch was still standing close to Abigail when a deep voice emerged from the firing-range entry way.

"Are you a crack shot yet?"

The agents spun around quickly to see Rossi standing behind them, smirking. Abigail smiled at him, taking off her eyewear and putting down the gun.

"Take a look Dave, I think I'm ready for SWAT."

Rossi laughed and looked at the target.

"Wow, Aaron you must be a good teacher."

"Come on Dave, don't give him all the credit. It's easy to teach when you're working with such raw talent," Abigail joked, starting to gather her things.

"I'll see you two later, I have some paper work to do."

As Abigail left, Rossi turned to Hotch and smirked.

"So, I take it that was a more… enjoyable experience than coaching Agent Reid?"

Hotch refused to take the bait.

"She won't need a whistle."

"Uh-huh."

"Don't you have work to do? A book to write? A royalty cheque to cash?"

The agents walked out of the firing range, exchanging banter as they left.


	5. Chapter 5

"Hey Abigail, we're going to catch a movie tonight, would you like to come?" Spencer stood over Abigail's desk, satchel over his shoulder, clearly on his way out of the office. JJ and Emily weren't far behind.

"I'd actually love to but I'm still behind on paperwork. Thank you for the invitation though, guys."

She really was grateful. The BAU agents had made a huge effort to make her feel like part of the team over the course of her first few weeks with the unit.

"OK, another time." JJ said.

"Don't stay too late, Rhodes," Emily added.

 

The agents left and Abigail put her head down, continuing with her paperwork. She was the only person left in the bullpen. Hotch and Rossi were still at work, but both were in there respective offices. Working on BAU cases as well as offering other teams support with child interviewing and victim assistance had left her stretched thin, and she was always left with more paperwork than any of the other agents, Other than Hotch and Rossi, she was usually the last to leave.

Within an hour of the other agents leaving, and just as Abigail was about to finish for the night, a blonde woman holding the hand of a little boy walked into the BAU. Abigail looked up from her work and noticed a panicked expression on the woman's face. She stood up, took off her glasses and walked over to greet her.

"Can I help you, ma'am?"

Just as the woman was about to answer, Hotch's office door opened and he rushed down into the bullpen wearing a panicked expression of his own.

"Jessica? Is everything OK?"

"Daddy!" The boy, who Abigail realized must be Jack, broke free of the woman's hand and ran towards Hotch.

" _Is_ everything OK?" Hotch asked again, as he kneeled down to embrace Jack.

Abigail's heart melted a little at the sight of them both so happy to see each other.

"I have a meeting tonight, Aaron. Remember? You were supposed to pick him up an hour ago. You haven't been answering you phone."

Abigail, feeling awkward, returned to her desk and left them too it.

"I thought that was next Thursday."

"No, it was tonight, I can still make it but you need to take him."

"Jessica I can't leave, I have a meeting in ten minutes. Can't you reschedule?"

Hotch was meeting with Strauss to discuss how Abigail was integrating into the team. Strauss was evidently one of the only other people busy enough to keep similar hours to Hotch, so they tended to meet in the evenings.

"I've already put this off twice, Aaron."

Aaron and Jessica stared at each other, obviously at an impasse. Abigail debated whether or not step in.

"Sorry to interrupt, but I'm done here Hotch. I'd be happy to watch him here or drive him home and watch him until you get back."

Jessica and Hotch looked at Abigail and then at each other.

"Jessica, this is Agent Abigail Rhodes. Agent Rhodes, this is my sister-in-law Jessica."

Abigail shook Jessica's hand and turned her attention towards Jack, who was standing silently with his arm wrapped around Hotch's leg.

"And you must be Jack." Abigail tried to sound cheerful and gave Jack her warmest smile. "My name is Abigail, I work with your Dad."

Jack looked up at his dad, uncertain.

"Say hello, Jack."

"Hello Ambigail." She smiled at the mispronunciation of her name. As much as she was starting to love the BAU, she missed working more with children.

"Would you mind if Abigail took you home, Jack?" Hotch asked.

Jack thought for moment. Jessica looked nervous.

"Can you make macaroni?"

"I can! We could eat some macaroni, read some stories…."

"I like dinosaurs, can we play dinosaurs?" Jack didn't take long to warm up.

"Of course!"

"Aaron, can I talk to you?" Jessica asked.

Hotch led Jessica into his office and Abigail heard some animated conversation taking place. She sat with Jack and tried to distract him from the intense discussion that was getting louder and louder behind Hotch's door. A moment later the two emerged.

"Abigail, here are the keys to my house and cash for dinner - no matter what he tells you he's not allowed ice-cream instead of actual food."

"Daddyyyyy!" Abigail and Jessica smiled.

"I won't be too late. Call me if you have any problems," Hotch said.

"Of course. Are you ready to go Jack?" Abigail grabbed her bag and offered the little boy her hand.

Jack put on his own backpack, took Abigail's hand, and waved to Jessica.

"Be good, Jack. It was nice to meet you, Abigail."

Jessica offered a forced smile and Abigail couldn't tell if she was annoyed at her or at Hotch. She left in a hurry, wanting to escape the tense atmosphere as soon as possible.

 

* * *

 

 

"So, Agent Hotchner, how do you think Rhodes is doing with the BAU?"

He sat across from Strauss, tired and distracted by concern over how Jack and Abigail were getting along.

"She's doing well. She's fitting in easily with the other agents. She's smart and hard-working."

He thought about the way she spoke to families and to victims: warm and compassionate.

"She's gifted at interviewing families and working with children. She's an asset to the team."

"I'm glad to hear it. When I spoke to Rossi about situating someone from the Victim Assistance and Child Interviewing Team with the BAU and he suggested Agent Rhodes, I was a little concerned."

This caught Hotch's attention. Why would Dave do that? Moreover, why wouldn't he tell Hotch that he'd specifically suggested Rhodes? Strauss continued:

"She's relatively young and I know that the BAU can be extremely challenging."

"Rossi suggested Rhodes?"

Strauss looked surprised.

"You didn't know?"

"No, I didn't."

 

* * *

 

 

Abigail's evening with Jack went smoothly. She made macaroni and cheese from scratch which seemed to impress Jack, who'd thought that mac and cheese could only come out of a box. By the time they'd finished dinner and played a little with Jack's dinosaurs it was already 7.30. Abigail helped Jack brush his teeth, found his pajamas, and coaxed him into bed.

"Abby can you read me a story?"

After struggling to say her full name, Jack had figured out that her nickname was easier to pronounce and had taken to using that instead.

"Of course buddy, do you have a favorite?"

Jack handed her a book called 'I'll Miss You' and climbed into bed. Abigail realized that it was a book about grief for children and her heart broke. Jack cuddled into her as she read and by the time she'd finished he'd fallen asleep. Abigail looked down at him, realizing for the first time how hard it must be for both him and Hotch, to live without Jack's mother. She stroked his hair, whispered goodnight, and wandered downstairs. Abigail turned on the TV, set the volume to low, and tried to relax.

 

* * *

 

 

Hotch pulled into his driveway at 9.45pm, panicked and feeling guilty for leaving Abigail alone for so long. He opened the front door quietly, not wanting to wake Jack, and stepped inside.

He looked into the living room, expecting to see Abigail watching TV, waiting to leave. Instead he saw her lying down, heels on the floor on next to the couch, asleep. He quietly walked upstairs to check on Jack, then crept back into the lounge. He sat on the edge of the coffee table and watched her for a moment. Her hair, long and slightly dishevled, fell around her face. Her lips parted slightly and he noticed how full they were. He often walked around the office with such single minded focus that he'd rarely really looked at her. Part of him also knew that if he spent too much time looking he'd notice how pretty she was, and he didn't want to be in that position. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder and whispered.

"Abigail."

She stirred, taking a big breath in and drawing Hotch's attention down past her neck. Her blouse was unbuttoned exposing the full contours of her chest. He cleared his throat, averted his eyes and said her name again. This time she opened her eyes and quickly startled.

"Hotch! I can't believe I fell asleep I'm so sorry. What time is it?"

"Don't be sorry, I'm sorry. It's late - nearly ten."

"God I must look like such a mess." She ran her hands over her hair, trying to tame it.

"You look fine, Rhodes. How was he?"

"He was great. We made mac and cheese, played games, read a story, and then he happily went to sleep."

"Mac and cheese, huh?"

"Yeh, he seemed to think it could only be made from a box so I demonstrated otherwise."

Hotch looked a little weary.

"I'm not known for my abilities as a cook."

"I made extra: I thought you might appreciate leftovers."

"Thank you. Not just for the leftovers, for tonight."

"You're welcome, Hotch."

Abigail looked down at her lap, wondering whether or not she should ask the next question.

"Was Jessica alright with me looking after Jack? She didn't seem that pleased."

"Don't take it personally. It was me she wasn't pleased with. Every since Haley died she's helped me out with Jack. More than helped, really, and she's protective."

Hotch felt a familiar sense of guilt start to creep in thinking about how little time he got to spend with Jack and how much he'd come to rely on Jessica. Abigail spoke just as he was about to lose himself to self-pity.

"That's understandable."

Hotch looked down, shoulders slumped, and Abigail had to fight the urge to reach out and take his hand. She wanted to know more: what happened to Hayley specifically? Why had they separated initially? How much time did Hotch spend with Jack now? She didn't ask any of those questions.

"How was your meeting with Strauss? Are you keeping me around or turfing me out?"

He looked up and saw her smiling.

"I wouldn't call it 'turfing you out': we'll give you until tomorrow afternoon to clean out your desk."

He saw the panicked look on Abigail's face and remembered that his dead-pan tone sometimes caused his jokes to translate poorly. Part of the reason he rarely made any.

"I'm kidding, Rhodes. I told her that you're fitting in well and that we'd like to continue to have you as part of the team."

He'd said a lot more than that, but it was in his nature to be sparing with direct compliments. Direct emotion of any sort, really.

"Thank you, Hotch."

Abigail was beaming and seeing her smile like that made Hotch's stomach flip.

"I should go," she said as she uncurled her legs from the couch and slipped her feet into her heels.

Hotch stood with her and walked her to the door.

"Hotch, if you ever need a hand with Jack I'm more than happy to help. He's a really sweet kid." He didn't know if he could ever bring himself to ask but he appreciated the offer anyway.

"Anyway, goodnight Hotch."

"Goodnight, Abigail."

Hearing him use her first name made Abigail feel warm, for some reason. Hotch watched her walk down the driveway and made sure she got into her car safely before he closed the door. He walked over to the refrigerator, pulled out the mac and cheese, and smiled.


	6. San Antonio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The case in this story will run into the next chapter. Both halves posted together would of been craaazy long, but maybe people don't mind lengthy chapters? Let me know!

It was a Sunday night and Abigail was at a bar with Emily, JJ and Garcia. They’d had regular girls nights since Abigail had joined the team: a habit she’d really come to enjoy.

“Come on sweet cheeks, you’re telling me that there isn’t one specimen of manhood in this entire establishment fine enough to spark any sort of carnal desire?” Penelope asked. They’d gotten onto the subject of dating and Abigail was in the hot seat.

“I told you I’m just not really into casual dating. I tend to… fall into relationships with people I know and already like. I don’t want to go through the stress of meeting someone in a bar and the anxiety provoking-experience of going out on a date with them only to realize that we have nothing in common.”

Abigail took another sip of her drink and JJ took up Garcia’s cause.

“So who are you waiting to fall into a relationship with? Reid? Morgan?”

“Hey!” Garcia snapped, possessively. JJ continued.

“Rossi? _Hotch?_ ”

Abigail became uncomfortable at the mention of Hotch’s name. She’d started to really care about Him during her time with the BAU, and she’d admitted to herself that she found him attractive, but she knew it would never be more than that. The best she could hope for was friends, and Hotch’s closed-off demeanor made even that seem unlikely sometimes.

“Of course not!” Abigail responded, maybe a little too late.

The girls looked at each other and Abigail noticed.

“What?”

“Nothing.” JJ smiled, shaking her head.

“I’m going to go and get another drink. Anyone want anything?” Emily asked.

“Another margarita please, Angel.” Garcia replied.

Not long after, Emily returned with a guy in tow. He was attractive. Tall, tan, tattoos covering his muscular forearms. He smiled at Abigail as he approached the table, looking nervous. Oh no, Abigail thought.

“Abby, this is Julian. He’s 32, a firefighter, and wants to know if you’re free tomorrow night.” Emily looked very pleased with herself. Abigail was stunned and realized that her mouth was hanging open.

“I’m sorry, I just saw you from the bar and you’re really beautiful and your friend says that you’re great,” Julian said earnestly, hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched around his ears with self-conscious tension.

He seemed nervous and very sweet, and Abigail didn’t want to embarrass him in front of three other women. She noticed that Garcia had pulled out a pen and paper and was writing something down.

“Julian, here is Abigail’s number. She’s shy but I’m sure she’d love to go out with you. If not I have a very long list of female acquaintances who’d snap you up like the last chocolate donut in the bakery.”

Julian smiled and Abigail relented. Why not? It wasn’t like she had anyone else interested. Maybe JJ was right, was she ever going to meet someone just waiting? If she changed her mind she could always cancel.

“Tomorrow should be fine, Julian. Just give me a call later and we’ll set something up, OK?” Julian left, looking pleased. Abigail turned attention back to her co-workers.

“I hate you guys.”

 

* * *

 

 

The next morning Abigail had barely sat down with her coffee when Hotch summoned the agents to the round-table room. She groaned, not hungover, just tired and dreading the date she’d been peer-pressured into. Julian had called her later than night. They’d chatted and agreed to meet for dinner.

“We have a case in San Antonio, Texas. A little girl, Marie Howlett, went missing from outside of her school this morning. Her brother, Toby, walked her to school and was meant to escort her inside but left her on the sidewalk. He was planning on cutting school and got picked up by friends.”

“How old is the bother?” Abigail asked.

“Fifteen. We’ll need you along for this one, Rhodes.” Hotch answered. Abigail nodded.

“Have there been any other abductions recently?” JJ asked.

“None - the parents are also together and there’s no family conflict that suggests that it might be custody or revenge motivated,” Hotch responded.

“So it’s likely a predator whose behavior has recently escalated to abduction in response to a stressor,” said Reid. Hotch nodded and continued.

“I’d say so. We’ll discuss it more on the plane, she’s been missing for three hours so we’re getting involved early but I want to be in the air as soon as possible.” 

 

* * *

 

 

Abigail carried a second cup of to-go coffee onto the jet and sat down opposite Reid, Emily joining them soon after and immediately pointing a finger at Abigail.

“Don’t you dare cancel that date yet, we could still be back in time.”

Hotch and Rossi, already on the plane, looked up.

“Date?” Spencer asked.

Abigail started to say something but Emily interrupted.

“Yes, with a gorgeous firefighter.”

Abigail felt her face burning, and thought she sensed Hotch watching her.

“Can we not talk about this, please?” Abigail, pleaded.

“Talk about what?” asked JJ, joining the team.

“Julian,” Emily answered.

“Ohhhh, the hunky firefighter,” said JJ.

Hotch, seeing Abigail look uncomfortable and feeling himself losing patience, interrupted.

“Can we talk about the little girl that’s missing and perhaps work on a profile?”

It came out harsher than he’d meant it. He saw Abigail hang her head, obviously embarrassed, and immediately felt guilty. He wasn’t sure why but hearing Emily and JJ discuss Abigail’s date had made his tolerance thin. Reid, desperate to break the tension, delivered a profile. Abigail read through the notes on the victim but was having trouble concentrating. She was dreading the date, and wishing that Emily hadn’t brought it up. She listened to the agents discuss the profile and stayed quiet until the jet landed in San Antonio.

When the jet landed the agents splintered off. Reid and Morgan headed to the school, and Emily and JJ stayed at the station looking through police records. Rossi, Hotch and Abigail headed to interview the family. Rossi and Hotch sat with the parents and Abigail talked with Toby alone.

Toby was a shy, brooding kid. As Abigail introduced herself and followed him into his bedroom she noted his dark clothes and long sleeves despite the Texas weather, his reluctance to maintain eye contact, and scrapes covering his knuckles. She sat across from him in his bedroom. He sat on his bed leaning against the wall, legs stretched out in front of his, dirty sneakers marking the comforter. Abigail watched him from his desk chair across the room.

“Can you tell me about that afternoon, Toby?”

“I told the cops everything.”

“I know, but I think it’s more helpful to hear it directly from you. Some things can get lost in translation and I’d hate to miss something important.”

She tried to be as warm as possible, and attempted to make him realize how important he was to the investigation.

“I’m pretty useless, I don’t think I can help yo,” he said quietly, tugging at the sleeves of his shirt.

Abigail felt her chest tighten - she hated hearing kids talk about themselves that way.

“What makes you say that?”

Toby shrugged.

“You know Toby, ‘useless’ isn’t really a word that kids use to describe themselves. Not even when they’re depressed and feeling particularly bad about themselves.”

Toby’s eyes picked up in response to the word ‘depression’. Abigail carried on.

"‘Useless tends to be a word that adults use to describe kids when they’re being particularly critical.”

Toby looked uncomfortable. Abigail made an educated guess.

“Your dad? You think he blames you?” Toby nodded. Abigail noticed his eyes well up.

“It’s my fault that Marie is missing.”

“It’s not your fault, Toby.”

“It _is_. If I hadn’t of been cutting class like a total fuck-up I would of walked her inside instead of leaving her on the curb and she wouldn’t be missing.”

Hotch approached Toby’s bedroom and paused at the words ‘fuck up’. He hung back, listening to Abigail’s conversation.

“Toby look at me.” Abigail’s voice was tender but firm in a way that it usually wasn’t. Hotch carried on listening.

“Sometimes people say things that aren’t true when they’re upset. Sometimes when they’re feeling guilty or responsible they can criticize others to try and ease their own pain. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

Silence. Hotch assumed that Toby was nodding.

“Toby, when you’re experiencing something like depression or anxiety your perception of yourself tends to be very negatively skewed. You feel bad about yourself, and that makes it really easy to feel guilty about things that might not be your fault. Does that sound familiar?”

This piqued Hotch’s interest and he listened closer. The way Abigail spoke made it sound as though she was speaking from a place of personal experience, rather than just professional opinion.

“My counsellor tells me stuff like that all the time.”

“You have a counsellor? You talk to him about your family and your Dad?”

“Yeh, Chris. I talk to him about my parents. How they blame me for a lot of things. I always feel guilty because my parents argue about me and I think that must be really hard on Marie, like maybe she doesn’t really get enough attention. He says that it’s not my fault and that he knows I’m a good kid. He tells me I can always talk to him, even when my parents are being assholes.”

Hotch pulled back and walked downstairs as he heard Abigail asking Toby more questions about the afternoon Marie went missing.

 

“How’s she doing?” Rossi asked when Hotch arrived at the bottom of the stairs. The parents were in their living room, done with questioning, and Rossi was waiting to speak with Hotch next to the front door.

“It sounds like she’s still talking with him.”

“Are you OK?” Rossi asked Hotch.

“Of course, why?” Hotch tried to give Rossi a look that would dissuade him from pushing the subject further.

“You seemed a little irritable this morning, on the plane.”

Hotch didn’t say anything.

“Something to do with Abigail’s date, maybe?”

“Why would I be irritable about that? Of course not.”

Rossi shrugged.

“OK, my mistake.”

Hotch wanted to ask about Strauss mentioning that Dave had suggested Abigail for the BAU placement, but at that moment Abigail appeared from the staircase putting an end to the conversation, and the agents left to reconvene with others at the station.


	7. San Antonio Part 2

The BAU spent the afternoon debriefing with each other. The parents had maintained that they didn’t know anyone with a grudge or anyone who’d shown Marie attention inappropriately. The school had had no complaints about strange behavior. The police had no helpful leads. By nightfall the agents were getting frustrated and tired. They knew that statistically time was running out to find the girl alive but they were exhausted and hungry.

“How about we go out for an hour and talk about this over food, I can’t see straight anymore.” JJ suggested. 

The agents agreed one-by-one.

“Rhodes?” Morgan asked.

Something about Abigail’s conversation with Toby was bothering her but she couldn’t put her finger on it. She knew she wouldn’t be able to think about it in any depth at a group dinner.

“I think I’m going to stay here.”

“Are you sure?” Hotch asked.

“Yeh, I feel like I might be onto something and a couple of hours alone might give me time to concentrate. No offense, guys.”

Emily laughed.

“None taken, we’ll see you in a little while.”

 

The agents left and Abigail was alone. Before turning her attention back to the case she pulled out her cell-phone and dialed Julian’s number, hoping he wouldn’t answer. Unfortunately he picked up on the second ring.

“Hey Abby.”

“Hey Julian…”

“You’re calling to cancel, aren’t you?”

He sounded disappointed and Abigail felt terrible, not only for cancelling but for not being even a little disappointed about it.

“I’m sorry, Julian. We’re still in San Antonio working a case.”

“Don’t worry about it. To be honest I was expecting you to cancel - I got the impression your interest was elsewhere?”

Abigail was a little caught off guard.

“Wh-, what do you mean?”

“I don’t know, just an impression I got. I felt like you wanted to say no but didn’t want to tell your friends why. Like you were already seeing someone, I guess.”

Abigail paused.

“No, nothing like that.”

Julian didn’t sound convinced.

“OK, well if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Abigail thanked him and said goodbye. She tried to squash the guilt she was feeling and turn her attention back to the case. She replayed her conversation with Toby over and over again. She felt like there was something obvious she was missing but just kept dwelling on how sad she’d felt for him.

She sat alone for the next half hour, staring blankly at the case notes, before Hotch appeared in the doorway carrying two take-out containers.

“I thought you were at dinner.” Abigail said, surprised.

“I thought you could use some help.” He put the takeout containers on the table amongst the paperwork and pushed one towards her. “The team are eating at a Japanese restaurant but the place next door sold cheese fries.”

Abigail felt herself relax. Something about seeing Hotch standing in the doorway with food had made her feel better about canceling on Julian.

“Cheese fries! You’re the best. Thank you Hotch.”

Hotch didn’t smile, just moved on to talking about the case.

“So, what are you thinking?”

“Honestly? I’m not sure. There was something about the conversation I had with the son.”

“I’ll let you think. Eat.”

Abigail and Hotch opened their takeout and started to eat in silence. After a few minutes Hotch spoke, not looking up from the table.

“I’m sorry about your date.”

Abigail looked up. Hotch kept his eyes down.

“We’re not getting back tonight, I’m assuming you had to cancel.”

“Yeh, I cancelled. It’s OK, I was relieved to be honest.”

Hotch’s interest piqued.

“Relieved?”

“I only accepted the date because Garcia, JJ and Prentiss were there and giving me a hard time. I was actually hoping that we wouldn’t be back in time.”

Abigail quickly realized how that must sound.

“I mean, I was hoping that we’d find Marie quickly, obviously. I was just hoping for… plane trouble, or something.”

The corners of Hotch’s mouth twitched upward. Then he did something he very rarely did: let his curiosity get the best of him.

“So ‘hunky firefighters’ aren’t your type?”

JJ’s words coming out of Hotch’s mouth sounded ridiculous and Abigail stifled a laugh.

“Not really. I spoke to him for a little while on the phone when we were setting up the date. I suggested we go for breakfast or coffee one morning over the weekend and he mentioned that on Saturday and Sunday mornings he wakes up at 5.30 to go to the gym.”

“Not your idea of an enjoyable Saturday morning?”

Abigail laughed. She couldn’t tell if Hotch was actually interested or if he was just being flippant but she answered him anyway.

“I want to wake up in bed on a Saturday with someone who doesn’t want to be anywhere else. Someone who’ll bring me coffee and lie there with me until noon talking and… I don’t know, reading the paper or something.”

Hotch stared at Abigail. As she described the scene she looked completely unguarded, as though she was letting him glimpse her inner world. For a minute he was there with her, letting himself crave the peace and the intimacy of the relationship she was describing.

“Don’t look at me like that, Hotch, I know it’s cheesy.”

“Not at all.”

 _It doesn’t sound cheesy, it sounds perfect,_ he thought. Despite dedicating himself to his job at the expense of his marriage, Aaron Hotchner wanted intimacy just as much, if not more than, anyone else. He spent his days at work being steady and dependable: the picture of self-control. Not having someone at home to be vulnerable with, to open himself up to, was an absence he felt so strongly that it was sometimes physically painful. He stopped himself from thinking about it and turned the conversation back to the case.

 

“Take me through your conversation with Toby.”

Abigail sighed.

“He feels guilty. His parents, or his father at least, blame him. He called himself ‘useless’, I think he got that from his father.”

Hotch nodded.

“They’re intolerant of him and his mental health issues: it came through in our conversation with them. He’s been skipping school, drinking…”

“But having that kind of hostility towards one of your own children…”

Hotch thought about his own father for a second before answering Abigail’s thought before she even finished speaking.

“He’s not a suspect: he has an alibi for this morning. As sad as it is it’s not surprising that Toby’s parents assign him some of the blame. It’s unfortunate that Toby is torturing himself with guilt over not walking her in, but…”

“That’s not all he feels guilty about… that’s it, that’s what was so strange. Toby said that he also felt guilty because he worried that his parents attention was focused on him at the expense of them paying attention to Marie.”

Hotch looked confused.

“That’s probably true.”

“But Toby’s fifteen. Developmentally, fifteen year olds are typically self-absorbed. Even when they’re emotionally healthy and well-functioning they only usually think about how their behavior affects others in very direct ways. Depression also usually makes you very self-absorbed. You’re too wrapped up in your own pain to even really notice the pain of others.”

Hotch again noticed that Abigail sounded like she was speaking from experience.

“I think someone _suggested_ that to Toby - mentioned to him that Marie was probably being neglected.”

Hotch started to understand where Abigail was going and continued her train of thought:

“Predators are skilled at identifying children who feel neglected and in need of attention. Kids who’ll be easy to build a relationship with and lure away. Who would have mentioned that to Toby, though?”

Abigail felt sick as the realization hit her.

“Toby’s counsellor. Toby also said that his counsellor, Chris somebody, had told him that he would ‘always be there for him, even when his parents weren’t’. That’s something a therapist would never say - unless they were grossly incompetent, or…”

“Or they were a predator in the habit of trying to establish themselves as a confidant and savior to children.”

Hotch was almost immediately on the phone to Garcia who found a full name and an address. Within ten minutes the police were on their way to his house, Hotch and Abigail following in an SUV. By the time they arrived the police had already entered the house. Abigail and Hotch waited in the SUV for an agonizing, silent few minutes, hoping for Marie to emerge.

“Is she…”

“I don’t know. You need to prepare yourself that he’s left her someone else or that she’s already gone.”

Abigail’s heart broke at the thought, for both Marie and Toby. She held her breath and tried not cry. Just as she was about to be overwhelmed by the tension and grief, she saw and officer emerge carrying a little girl wrapped in a blanket. The officer looked panicked and handed the girl off the the medics who’d just arrived. The agents got out of the SUV just as the rest of the team was arriving, having been called by Garcia at Hotch’s request during their earlier phone call. A police officer approached them as the ambulance turned on its sirens and pulled away from the house.

“Is she OK?” Hotch asked the officer. The officer looked uneasy.

“She’s groggy, we think she’s been drugged. We’re not sure what else happened…”

Abigail’s stomach fell. The agents stood in silence. Hotch was the first one to speak. “We’ll head back to the station, finish up quickly, and fly back to Virginia tonight.”

 

* * *

 

 

Abigail expected to feel relief once she was on the plane and headed back to Virginia, but she just felt tired. Hotch sat opposite her, reading over paperwork. Abigail looked out of the window at the black nothingness, thinking about Marie and Toby. Hotch noticed that she was staring into space rather than reading or working, which was unusual for her.

“You did good work today, Rhodes.”

“Thanks, Hotch.”

He put down his pen and looked at her. Her under-eyes were dark and her hair, usually falling around her shoulders in waves, was tied in a loosely-done braid.

“I know it can be hard to see an ending like this as a victory. That family has a lot of recovering to do, and that little girl… but whatever happened in that house, she has a chance to recover and have a full, normal life, because of us. Because of you.”

Abigail smiled but it was forced. Hotch could tell. He wanted to ask her about the conversation he overheard with Toby - to check that she was really OK and ask if there was something more about the case that had bothered her, but he couldn’t bring himself to be so personal.

“Thank you again for your help today, Hotch. Especially for the cheese fries.”

He smiled a rare, real smile and then the pair sat quietly for the rest of the flight.


End file.
